Private Dancer
by fantasymonk
Summary: Songfic about Trowa and Quatre... just a cute little ficcie! Shounen ai


Private Dancer

Sung by Tina Turner

Private Dancer(Dancing for You)

By fantasymonk

Warnings: yaoi

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Gundam Wing, and I don't make any profit from my fics; they are purely for entertainment purposes. Please enjoy!

Quatre closed the door to his room and sighed. Heero was on a mission, Duo was on a date with Hilde, Wufei had gone somewhere to find peace (away from Duo), and Trowa had gone to the circus. That left him all alone in the big house they were staying at. He looked at the clock; eleven at night and nothing to do. Quatre walked over to a CD stand and pulled one out, popping the disc into his stereo and turning up the volume. A slow beat filled the room. As the saxophone filled the air with a sad melody, he took off his T-shirt, leaving himself in only his boxers. Quatre closed his eyes and moved his hips to the beat.

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Well the men come in these places

And the men all look the same.

You don't look at their faces,

And you don't ask their names.

You don't think of them as human

You don't think of them at all.

You keep your mind on the money

Keeping your eyes on the wall.

Quatre let the feel of the music take over his body, and he danced in a way he'd never moved before. He slowly turned on the balls of his feet and lifted his arms around his head. His whole body swayed to the rhythm in a primal, sexual dance. Quatre imagined he was dancing for Trowa, showing him the feelings he couldn't express in words. Lowering his arms, he moved them gracefully, twining them in the air around himself. Almost on their own, his hands moved down his sides and over his butt, continuing down the backs of his legs.

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I'm your private dancer

A dancer for money

I'll do what you want me to do.

I'm your private dancer

A dancer for money

And any old music will do.

Quatre let his hands move over his body, sliding down his legs, up his chest, wherever the music led them. Holding his hands over his head, he moved his hips sensually, feet planted apart. He slowly sank to his knees, placing one hand behind him on the floor to hold himself up. With his knees far apart, he moved his hand down his throat, along his chest, across his stomach, and down further until it reached his boxer shorts. Quatre rocked his hips to the beat, imagining it was Trowa's hand he could feel touching him.

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I want to make a million dollars

I want to live out by the sea.

Have a husband and some children

Yeah I guess I want a family.

All the men come in these places

And the men are all the same.

You don't look at their faces

And you don't ask their names.

Rising from the floor, Quatre continued his dance, spinning around the room slowly. With his back to the door, he lifted his hands over his head, moving them in a slow rhythm, and rocked his hips to the beat. Turning around quickly, he stopped short when he saw Trowa standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and mouth open. They stared at each other as the song continued.

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I'm your private dancer

A dancer for money

I'll do what you want me to do.

I'm your private dancer,

A dancer for money

And any old music will do.

Quatre cleared his throat and looked at his feet.

"Hi Trowa," he said, his face a bright red. Trowa looked amused.

"So this is what you do when no one else is around," the taller youth said, the hint of a smile on his serious lips. Quatre looked up quickly.

"No, no! I don't always..." he trailed off as Trowa moved toward him. The taller pilot stopped right in front of him. Quatre felt conspicuous in his boxers. He watched Trowa open his mouth to speak. What the taller pilot said and did next startled him.

"Do you see me complaining?" Trowa asked, pulling the blonde pilot toward him. Quatre could only close his eyes and moan as Trowa kissed him deeply. He thought he must be imagining this moment; Trowa was kissing him with a passion he had only thought possible in his dreams. He could hear the music continuing in the background as they moved to his bed and tumbled onto it, still kissing. It didn't take long for Quatre's boxers and Trowa's shirt, shoes, and socks to disappear over the edge of the bed.

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I'm your private dancer

A dancer for money

I'll do what you want me to do.

Just a private dancer,

A dancer for money

And any old music will do.

Dutchmarks or dollars

American Express will do nicely thank you.

Let me loosen up your collar

Tell me do you want to see me do the shimmy again?

Downstairs, the door slammed open as Duo came home. The braided pilot was on cloud nine after his date with Hilde. As he bounded up the stairs to go to his bedroom, he heard loud music coming from Quatre's room. When he realized what song it was, he laughed.

"I didn't know Quatre would listen to a song like that," he snickered to himself. He knocked on the door, but didn't get an answer.

"The music must be too loud for Quatre to hear me," Duo reasoned. "I'll just let myself in." He opened the door wide, and stopped in surprise as he saw Quatre, naked, in bed with Trowa, who only had his jeans on. Their eyes were closed as they kissed, hands exploring each other's bodies. Duo pounded on the doorframe as hard as he could. Both boys looked up and sprang apart when they saw Duo in the doorway. Quatre pulled the sheet over himself in embarrassment. Duo grinned at them.

"Oh yeah, you two finally got together!" Duo crowed. He laughed as they both blushed. "Don't worry you guys, I won't tell; carry on," he finished, waving a hand nonchalantly in their direction as he closed the door. Then it opened again. "And this time, lock the door! By the way, Quatre, great mood music" he said, still laughing. Then he turned the lock and shut the door behind him.

Quatre and Trowa looked at each other and laughed, moving closer to one another. As their bodies touched and their lips met, Quatre put his lips close to Trowa's ear.

"I was dancing only for you," he whispered, taking the chance to kiss the taller pilot's ear. Trowa shivered at the gentle contact. He looked at Quatre with love in his eyes.

"I know," he replied. He chuckled at the look of surprise in the blonde boy's eyes. "I've been watching you watch me. I knew you were shy, though, so I've been waiting for the right time to tell you how I felt. When I came into your room and saw you moving to the music so sensually, I couldn't restrain myself." Quatre blushed. Then he snuggled closer to Trowa. As the night progressed, the two of them invented a private dance all their own, bodies moving together and hearts united as they made love.

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I'm your private dancer

A dancer for money

I'll do what you want me to do.

Just a private dancer

A dancer for money

And any old music will do.

The End


End file.
